


Learning to Share the Burden

by danke_rose



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Demons and such - Freeform, Eventual Kitty Pryde/Kurt Wagner, F/M, Mentions of Violence and Death, Suggestive Themes, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:34:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26839792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danke_rose/pseuds/danke_rose
Summary: Kurt Wagner has a lot of burdens to carry, and he thinks he can do it all himself.  Unfortunately, he's wrong.  Luckily, he has a friend looking out for him.
Relationships: Kitty Pryde & Kurt Wagner
Comments: 39
Kudos: 9





	1. Saturday

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in and around the Nightcrawler 2004 Solo, in which Kurt experiences unreasonable amounts of trauma. See end notes for those spoilers.
> 
> Along the way he befriends night nurse Christine Palmer, who, in the comic, is portrayed as a beautiful woman who is very interested in dating Kurt, but he resists until the end. Which is where this diverges from the story. 
> 
> Many thanks to MHammerman, who gave so much advice and perspective about this story, and listened to me whine about the troubles it was causing me. Trying to wade through the mire of Kurt's various traumas, figure out how he'd handle them, and what Kitty's role would be was demolishing me. I have at least ten versions of this story that I wrote and hated. But at last! It is here. 
> 
> You can find MHammerman's fics here on AO3 under that username, and also on the other site as Marg Hammerman. If you like Kurt/Kitty, you'll want to find her fics; they're wonderful!

On the television, Errol Flynn's Robin Hood called to his Merry Men and dashed across the screen. Kurt wasn't paying attention to it, the sound simply a familiar background noise he could tune out while he worked. He crouched on the floor, his tail sweeping back and forth, automatically keeping him balanced. Surrounding him were piles of books and papers spilling from a large, half-empty cardboard box. Over the years, he'd moved so many times and had his things blown up or lost in various ways, and now he wasn't sure he still had the album. But if there was a chance it was here, he was going to look for it. It was the last evidence he had of his life in the Winzeldorf circus.

Most of the papers were things he didn't remember why he'd saved, so he had a stack of trash on one side, reducing the already limited evidence of his personal life. On his other side, a small pile of things worth keeping grew slowly. There were spare copies of three of his favorite books, the takeout menu from his favorite restaurant in London because he planned to go back, and a diagram of some circuit that Kitty had drawn. She'd been trying to explain what she was doing, but he wasn't really following, more interested in her company than the project. He picked up the diagram and studied it again, debating whether or not to keep it. It wasn't useful. He put it back in the keep pile, not sure why, other than he liked her silly doodle of Lockheed in the corner.

As he sifted through more and more papers, it became clear he was not going to find the tattered album of photos from his circus days in Germany. Still, he continued sorting, hoping against hope that it might be in there, perhaps buried at the bottom. When the box was empty and the floor was littered with trash and the remnants of memories, he sat back and looked at it all. Was this really all he had? He glanced up at the top of his closet. There was one other box, but it was full of books, not memories.

The phone rang at the same time someone knocked on the door. He reached for the phone first, answering as he crossed the room.

“Hello, Christine,” he said, at the same time he opened the door on Kitty's serious expression. She was holding a printout, still reading it, a few curls loose around her face.

Kitty looked up in surprise when he spoke, a name not her own, then stepped back, muttering apologies.

He put his hand over the mouthpiece. “Hi Kätzchen.”

For a second he forgot Christine was on the phone. Then she spoke in his ear. “Kurt, are you there?”

“I'm sorry, hold on a moment, Christine. Kitty is at the door.”

Kitty eyed the phone in his hand. “I'll come back later,” she said, “It's not urgent.”

“Are you sure? That looks like work.” He reached for the paper in her hand.

“Yeah, but it can wait.” She left before he could stop her, his hand closing around air. For a moment he didn't bring the phone back to his ear, watching her hurry down the hall, absorbed in her work.

He didn't shut the door right away. Kitty would have been good company tonight for his melancholy mood. She understood what it was like to lose every tangible reminder of the past. She'd been through that, too. Then again, she'd probably wonder what had brought on his spell of gloomy reminiscing, and he didn't want to discuss his personal business with her. They weren't her burdens to carry.

“Sorry about that,” he said to Christine, turning back to his empty room as he let the door swing shut on its own, not quite catching. “How are you feeling?”

Christine Palmer, the night nurse from Metro General, had helped Kurt solve the mystery of how thirteen children had died. She'd become a friend, and gone with him and Logan to Germany, when Kurt left chasing the ghost of a feeling that something wasn't right. She'd been in Florida, too, when he'd faced a demon named Hive, and some of his own personal demons as well. It had been Christine's suggestion that he go home, then asked to come along. She was confident her nursing skills could be helpful if they ran into trouble. Instead, she'd been stabbed by Logan when Hive possessed him. Amanda had saved her life, using magic to put her back together.

Christine's invitation to dinner seemed like a better way to spend the evening than moping. Maybe she could take his mind off things for a while. Kurt glanced at the box on the floor, full of all the things that weren't what he was looking for, and wondered if dinner would be enough of a distraction from his troubles.

  
  


Kitty didn't return for almost an hour, and he had just finished boxing up the remainder of what he planned to keep. His recycle bin was full, and the box was considerably lighter as he lifted it to the top shelf. He wasn't surprised to see Kitty's head poke around the open door after knocking.

“Are you off the phone?” she said, though it was obvious.

He shoved the box onto the shelf and stepped back, shutting the closet door quietly. “Sorry about that,” he said. “She called right when you knocked.”

Kitty shrugged his apology aside. “Can you look at this? Scott asked me to double check it, and some of your hours look off.”

He read over the report, nodding as he skimmed the time sheet. “No, it's right. I worked a lot.”

“No kidding,” Kitty said. She put her hands on his face, inspecting him. “You look exhausted. Even your vacation didn't help.”

“I am tired,” he admitted, ignoring her comment about his trip to Germany and the fluttering in his stomach when she touched his cheeks. She hugged him, patting his back. Something about the affection made him add, “And frustrated. I was looking for something, but I couldn't find it. I've lost so many things over the years...”

“Want some help?” Her hand slipped down to twine with his.

He shook his head. “I've looked where it would be. Thank you, though.”

Kitty glanced around the room, as if she could find the mystery item anyway, still holding his hand. Kurt followed her eyes, seeing the room as she must. Posters and movies and books. It could be almost anyone's room, he thought, impersonal and empty until he caught her in his field of vision again. She turned back to him and nestled her head against his shoulder. He put his arm around her as she fumbled with the papers.

“Emma said Seth is doing really well in school,” she said as she raised her eyes, searching his face.

“She told me as well. I'm glad. He's been through so much loss.”

“All those children were his friends. And the doctor he trusted betrayed him. It's a miracle he's willing to stay with us.”

“He has youth on his side.”

“I still see that thing sometimes...” She stepped out of his arms and turned away. He let her go, wishing he could pull her back against him to comfort her.

Kurt could imagine it, too, the demon rearing up to impossible size, leaving Seth's body behind. Kitty clinging to the boy's hand, keeping him intangible and alive. He could still see the terrified look in her eyes when she raised them to his for answers. He had not known what to do except watch the demon grow larger and put himself between her and Seth and the demon.

“Are you all right?” he said when she shivered.

“I'm fine,” she said, and gave him a confident smile. “Faced a lot of demons. Just never one coming out of a kid's stomach. Yuck.”

“That was truly horrible. And then Dr. Childs...” The doctor responsible for the deaths of thirteen children had been killed by the very demon he sought to enslave. Kurt anticipated her question. “I'm all right.” It wasn't even a lie in that moment. He gave her hand a squeeze, comforted by her touch.

“Well, you know where to find me. If, y'know...”

“I do. Thank you.”

Seth's demons were no longer the worst of his memories, and he felt a little guilty about his decision not to tell her. She knew he'd gone to Germany with Logan, but he hadn't told her anything when he returned, and he hadn't told her Christine had been there. There was no need to burden her with his troubles.

As a compromise to himself, he said, “I was looking for a photo album.”

“It's probably online,” she said. “Remember all that stuff I scanned in England?”

He had forgotten. It had been so long ago, and he hadn't looked at them since she'd done it. He remembered now, Kitty offering her help and the way he'd put her off with an excuse of being busy. She'd come back though, twice more, until he gave in and handed her a small stack of beat up paper albums and a few loose photos. He hadn't even looked at her work when she was done, just accepted the albums back and gone about the daily task of life in Excalibur. Now, his heart gave a lurch of hope and gratitude. He was fairly sure he'd had the album then.

“Are they on a disk somewhere?”

“Nope, I'll show you.” She made herself comfortable at his computer, bypassing his login with a few taps and connecting to the internet.

“How long have you known my password?” he said as he leaned over her, his chin almost in her hair. She smelled like shampoo, something sweet but not heavy. He wanted to bury his face in her hair and breathe her in until all the heartache was gone. He settled for resting his hand on her shoulder.

“I didn't until now. Lucky guess.” She sat back triumphantly and waved her hand at the screen. “Ta-da! There you go, all your albums are right here.”

Kitty had no idea what she'd done all those years ago, insisting he let her scan his albums. Now he'd always have them, even when (not _if_ ) the school was destroyed. He would always be able to remember his friends and the people who had helped raise him.

He stared at the screen as a lump formed in his throat, then at Kitty's gleefully raised face. The urge to kiss her exploded in his chest, and he swallowed twice, forcing himself to ignore it. It was ridiculous to think of kissing her. She'd be insulted and besides, he _wasn't_ in love with her. He couldn't be.

Her hand touched his arm, fingers curving over his wrist, and he blinked back to the present to find her regarding him curiously. There was a warmth in her eyes, and concern.

“Is this what you were looking for?” she said.

“ _Ja_. Yes, it is. Thank you,” he said, and he leaned down to hug her, pressing his cheek against her ear. “I spent two hours this afternoon looking for this one. I thought it was long gone.”

She hugged him back awkwardly, her hand around his head. Her fingers brushed the back of his ear as she patted him and pressed a chaste kiss to his temple.

“Glad I could help, but I better get this report back to Scott,” she said, pushing up from the chair. Kurt straightened to let her up, wishing as he did that she'd stay, before remembering he'd made plans. At the door, she paused, halfway through. “Hey, you wanna watch a movie later? I haven't seen much of you since the whole...” she made a face. “Ororo really has you running around, and you were gone...”

“I told Christine I'd meet her for dinner tonight,” he said, genuinely disappointed. “Rain check?”

“Sure,” she said, already halfway out the door. “Have fun.”

  
  


Christine was sympathetic when he described his search for the circus album. She'd witnessed the death and destruction in Germany, and a little of the fight in Florida. She listened, nodding along and making appropriate sounds of understanding. Kurt knew she was trying to be kind, but Christine had never lost so much, and admitted as much.

“I can't imagine what you must be going through,” she said, reaching across to grasp his hand. “Are you all right?”

“I have good friends to get me through,” he said, and watched her blush.

He decided not to mention the roles Amanda and Margali had played in the circus tragedy—that they'd intentionally deceived him and manipulated him. Christine had been unconscious when he learned the Soul Sword was inside him, calling silently to the evil in the world, tempting them to come and find it. She seemed relieved when he changed the subject, and telling him about her job at the hospital she'd transferred to after the incident with Dr. Childs. Kurt thought she was trying to cheer him up with stories of the funny doctor on the children's ward. He laughed along with her, but his mind was elsewhere, on another children's ward, in a packed dirt midway surrounded by more dead people, watching Kitty's expression of horror when the demon burst from Seth's body.

Christine flirted through dinner, touching his hand and batting her lashes. When they finished eating, he wasn't surprised that she invited him back to her apartment. He considered accepting the offer. She was pretty and sexy and willing. More than willing. He should want to go with her. He should be thrilled, he should be eagerly accepting her invitation, and yet something held him back.

He glanced at her hopeful expression and said, “Christine, I appreciate the offer, but as I've said—”

“Just friends. I _know_. We could watch a movie or something.”

A movie wouldn't hurt, and it would while away a few more hours. A few more hours where he might not have to think about dead friends and swarming flies and his foster mother's face as she explained away her most recent series of lies.

“All right. I'll stay for a movie,” he said, then realized it was the same offer Kitty had made earlier.


	2. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Sunday, Kurt often goes to Mass. This Sunday, he wakes up somewhere he doesn't want to be.

Kurt woke when the loud clomp of a dresser drawer slamming shut ripped him from his dream. Christine cursed under her breath. Her studio apartment was still dark, only the hint of morning light visible through a crack in a single curtain. Kurt rubbed his eyes as he sat up, yawning and blinking.

“Sorry I woke you,” Christine said. “The drawer sticks.” She hovered in the bathroom door in her pajamas, scrubs clutched in her hands. “I have to go to work. I'm covering days for Laura while she's on vacation.”

She'd mentioned that at dinner last night. Kurt shifted on the couch to see her, relieved to see he was still dressed. He must have fallen asleep in the first thirty minutes of the movie. He remembered scraps of conversation as it began, and Christine leaning against his shoulder.

“I'm sorry about last night,” he said.

“It's all right,” she replied, in a voice that said maybe it wasn't. “You must have been tired.”

“I haven't been sleeping well,” he said. That was one of the truest things he'd spoken to her since they'd returned from Germany. Falling asleep took forever, staying asleep was impossible. He'd awakened every night so far to dreams of his circus friends, his family, or demons. Kurt offered Christine a wide, apologetic smile as he rose. He folded her blanket neatly and laid it on the end of the couch. “I promise it was not the company.”

She cocked her head at him, apparently accepting his apology. “Want me to walk you out, or...?”

“No, it's all right. I can find my way, Christine. Thank you. And again, I'm sorry...”

She waved the comment off and put her hand on the bathroom door. “Forget it, it's fine. See you next time.”

  
  


The Xavier School was beginning to stir when Kurt returned, early-bird kids heading to the cafeteria to beat the rush, a few teachers already hitting the coffee pot. He stopped in for his own cup of steaming, liquid energy before heading up to his room to change. Kitty was coming down the stairs as he was heading up. She stopped, looked him up and down. Kurt didn't need a mirror to know his clothes were rumpled and his hair unbrushed.

Kitty smiled sweetly, and he braced himself for the teasing he knew was coming.

“Hey,” she said. “How was the date?”

“It wasn't a date,” he said wearily, and took a long gulp of coffee. It burned going down, but he didn't care. He started back up the stairs, and Kitty fell into step beside him, not touching him.

“Oh. Well, is everything okay? Did you and Christine have a fight or something?”

He lowered the mug and looked at her again. She wasn't making fun of him at all. “No, no fight. And I'm fine. I—Christine asked me to stay for a movie, and I, uh, fell asleep on her couch.”

“Not the romantic evening she was hoping for, I bet.”

“No, I don't think so. She seemed a bit perturbed when I woke.” He took another long sip of hot coffee. “And I was not planning on anything romantic. We're just friends.”

Kitty stopped at the landing. “Are you sure you're okay?”

“Positive.”

“Well, I have this rain check...”

Kurt brightened. “Are you busy tonight?”

“Not even a little. My place or yours?”

“Your choice. You had to wait for me.”

“Okay. My place at seven, and bring popcorn. Two bags this time since you hog it all.” She danced back down the stairs, and he watched her go until she disappeared around the corner at the bottom.

He wished he'd fallen asleep with Kitty. She would have understood better than Christine. The way their lives went, exhaustion and fatigue were more the norm than anything, and one or both of them had fallen asleep plenty of times. Once he'd woken up in her bed with her curls tickling his nose and her hand caught in his shirt. He wondered what would have happened if he'd come home last night after dinner and gone to see Kitty instead. He glanced at the computer and tapped a key to wake it up.

The online album was still open, and he paused to flip a few pages. Jimaine, Stephan, and young Kurt smiled at the camera from the front of the big top. He clicked through several more pages, reminiscing about the days before he even knew the X-Men existed, before he'd come to America with the professor, met new friends, and called them his family. He flipped a few pages and stopped at an image of Jutta and Feuer, with a crowd in the background and the sign for the cotton candy stand partly visible.

Kurt bookmarked the website and closed the computer. Hive's cryptic warning nagged at him. What did Stephan's death years before have to do with war between the realms? Or the Soul Sword? He tapped his pen on the blank journal page, trying to put the pieces together, but there were always a few missing.

Hive had said Kurt's foster family had been targeted, that Hive himself had been sent to kill Kurt. Did this suggest Kurt's family members were somehow capable of stopping it, or affecting the outcome? He needed to know more about this war—the players and the stakes and the motives. He considered asking Kitty for help, but he didn't want to add to her work load. He knew Hank and Scott kept her busy. And if this centered around his family, then perhaps the whole thing was personal. Maybe Hive didn't mean an all-out global war, but something more familial in nature. Kurt didn't know much about Margali's family. Perhaps it was an old vendetta of some kind. He'd have to ask Amanda, or Margali if he saw her.

  
  


It took him fifteen minutes to find Kitty that evening after Mass. He knew she was around, and he could have had the computer locate her, but he enjoyed playing a game with himself of guessing where she might be. There were a few places he could almost always count on her to be, but when he exhausted those, he had to start thinking. She was in the student library repairing one of the computers. Seeing Kitty made him want to forget his worries for a little while. Kitty was good for that, too. He was glad he'd decided to leave the question of Hive's message behind for the night.

“Aha. Found you,” he said as her brown curls lifted over the monitor.

When she smiled, a little of the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease. He attributed it to her familiar smile and the security of her friendship, that he'd worked so hard to earn in the beginning. Now, everything was easy with her. Almost everything, he corrected.

She shot him a quick smile. “I didn't know we were playing hide and seek.”

“We weren't.” He dropped his hip onto the table beside her and swung his tail lazily. “Still free?”

“Yep.” She finished up what she was typing and leaned back in the chair. “I put it on my calendar with a big red marker.”

“Afraid you'd forget?”

“Nope. Looking forward to it.”

Kurt chuckled. “Then I'll get the popcorn started and see you shortly.”

  
  


Fifteen minutes later, with two popped bags in his hands, he was pushing her door open with his hip, whipping his tail around to shut it behind him. He let the peace and calm of her room wash over him as he glanced around for her calendar. She'd really used red marker. Kurt chuckled, his worries slipping away while Kitty finished shoving pillows against the headboard. He was glad she'd offered her room for the movie. He needed the escape tonight.

Kurt arched a brow at two steaming mugs of hot chocolate on the nightstand. “Special occasion?”

“No, I was just in the mood, so I made two. It's getting chilly out and...what?” She was standing with the remote, advancing to the beginning of the movie, her curly hair loose and falling in her face.

He shook his head, unable to suppress his smile. “It's nothing, Kätzchen.” He pecked her cheek and handed her a bag of popcorn while she continued to watch him quizzically. Then she shrugged, tossed the remote onto the bed, and went to her dresser for an elastic for her hair.

He was happy, and he couldn't explain it without going into detail about the past week. Standing in Kitty's room, watching her scurry around in her pajama pants and a T-shirt at least two sizes too big for her, he just felt happy.

“Okay. Well, let's start the movie.” She climbed across the bed and wiggled back into the pillow, carefully balancing her bowl of popcorn so it didn't spill.

“I missed you last week,” he said, and she snapped her eyes up to his, once again a mix of concern and something else. For a moment he wondered if she'd been talking to Logan, but Kitty wasn't one to go behind his back.

He should have taken her to Germany. The truth hit him, settling in his gut with the heaviness of a mistake. She couldn't have prevented the tragedy, they'd been too late for that no matter what. But she would have helped in Florida, and she wouldn't have been injured. And maybe, having her there would have made it easier to deal with everything that seemed to fall on him at once. He considered telling her about it, _all_ of it. Someday he might, but not now.

He blinked out of his daze to find her watching him with concern, her thoughts obvious. _What's wrong? Sit down, everything will be all right_. His heart fluttered in his chest, and he rubbed it, the scratches from Vermin's attack still slightly tender when he pressed too hard on them.

Kitty patted the mattress and finally spoke up. “Come here. You've been working too hard. Let's just relax and watch this stupid movie together.”

“You picked a stupid one?”

Her smile didn't appear for several seconds, but when it did, it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. He finally moved, stretching out on his side across the foot of her bed so she could press her cold, bare feet into his back.

  
  


He didn't think about Christine, or dead people, or his family for almost three hours. He and Kitty watched the movie and made fun of it, and stole each other's popcorn and laughed. He breathed in the scent of her and absorbed the warmth of her and relished the sound of her laugh. For a little while, the world was right again, and he felt solid and sure of himself. Competent and capable. Being with Kitty was so different from being with Christine, who barely knew him.

He leaned back, dropping his head onto her stomach like a pillow as he sighed dramatically. She laughed, which made his head bobble, which made her laugh more. His own laughter joined hers, until tears were rolling down her face and Kurt's cheeks were sore. Everything felt as close to perfect as it could be.

He turned his head to see her face, looking past breasts he was suddenly too aware of. He sat up quickly, stretching his arms to hide the reason for moving away from her. She sat up beside him and rubbed his back, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

“You didn't have any trouble with that album site, did you?”

“No,” he said. “No trouble at all. In fact, I wanted to thank you again. So much would be lost if you hadn't done that years ago.”

She put her hand in his, rubbing her thumb over the knuckles. “It was really no big deal.” She twisted closer to see his face. “Kurt, are you all right? I mean, really?”

He knew his smile was forced and he knew she would see through it, but he smiled anyway. “A lot has happened in the last few weeks. Trying to figure it out is exhausting.”

“You don't have to do that alone, if you don't want to.”

Kitty squeezed his hand, silently imparting affection and her willingness to help, if only he would ask. “Thank you, Kätzchen, I appreciate the offer. But this is personal. I don't want to burden you.”

“You've never been a burden to me.”

He tried to imagine himself forming the words to tell her what had happened. The tragedy, the betrayal, the worry. He imagined the sound of her voice as she comforted him, the way her arms would feel when she held him. It made him want to hold her. That meant he had to leave.

“Thank you,” he repeated. “For the offer, and for the movie and the hot cocoa. I'll let you know if there's anything you can do.”

“Okay.” She paused, not quite smiling. “Thanks for bringing the popcorn.”

He lingered a few minutes more, running his hand up and down her arm as if she were the one who needed soothing, not him. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay there, in this moment where she was close and warm and everything felt like it might really be okay after all. When she sighed softly and pressed her cheek into the fur along his collarbone, he got up before he could say or do something irrevocable. She couldn't possibly know what she was doing to him; if she did, she'd never be so affectionate. He collected the popcorn trash and brushed crumbs off her covers. Kitty stayed where she was, drawing her knees up to her chin to watch him gather the empty bowls.

“Do you need any help with anything else?” he asked.

She glanced around at the empty mugs on the nightstand, then to him. He almost dropped the bowls and crawled back onto her bed, tempted by the pouty shape of her lips as she answered him.

“No, it's good. There's really nothing to clean up.”

“Then good night, Kätzchen.” He backed up a few steps before finally turning toward the door. He didn't look back, afraid if he did, he would not be able to leave.


	3. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Monday, Hank examined Kurt's wounds and pronounced him pretty much healthy.

Hank decreed that Kurt was healthy, though he might have a few new scars. Trying for humor, Hank assured him that, according to Bobby, “chicks really dig scars.” But Kurt wasn't sold on that theory. Why did women like the idea that someone they supposedly cared about had been hurt so badly it had left a permanent mark? He'd have to think about that later, though. The checkup was over, and Hank was putting his files in order while Kurt buttoned his shirt. His to-do list was growing, and Ororo was at the top. She had questions about the subway ghosts, and Kurt wondered if she was about to drop another supernatural case on him. He hopped off the exam table.

“Thank you, Henry,” he said and smoothed the front of his shirt.

“Give it another day before you get back to training,” Hank said, almost an afterthought as Kurt headed towards the door.

 _Strike item three off the to-do list_. Kurt wanted to move, to push his body and sweat out some of the restless anxiety he couldn't seem to rid himself of. Now it would have to wait another day. He decided to go outside, take a turn around the property, and hope the fresh air and dim sunlight filtering through low-hanging clouds would help him think more clearly. He didn't bother with a coat, preferring to feel the bite of the wind. As he headed for the doors, he passed a group of students, walking together, talking and laughing.

There was a boy he recognized, with one of the new kids, their arms around each other, clearly happy. It seemed so simple. Why couldn't his own life be as simple as _I like you_ and _Will you go out with me_? Kurt looked away and picked up his pace to the main door. Why was it always Kitty's face he saw when he imagined himself happy and loved? Why not Christine, who he knew liked him? He needed space to think, and he needed to focus on Hive and the war, not his joke of a love life.

Outside, the overcast sky weighed down his mood even more. The clouds seemed to press in on all sides, though there was no fog. It felt like a mist, floating around him in the cool, humid air. The forecast called for rain overnight, but Kurt would have sworn it was about to pour down any moment. He made it once around the building before the rain began to fall, pelting the sidewalk and soaking his shirt before he reached the front door. His first thought was to teleport inside, but the rain felt refreshing, and he let it continue to fall on him, plastering his hair to his head and dripping into his eyes. He stood at the bottom of the front steps for several minutes before he began to shiver and teleported to his room to change.

A warm shower and change of clothes later, he sat at his desk, searching the internet for information on demons and wars and the end times. There were the usual Bible verses, the usual proclamations from different faiths about what the end times would look like and where everyone would end up afterwards. There was very little about demons, and nothing at all about a connection between demons and sorceresses.

He opened his journal instead, but twenty minutes later was still staring at a blank page. He'd thought of a hundred ways to begin the entry, to put down in writing the facts of what had happened. _They're all dead_. _Hive says a war is coming_. _Christine.._. The pen lay motionless in his hand until the phone rang.

Christine's call felt like divine intervention, preventing him from writing down those dreaded words and marking the reality of the deaths. He could hear the smile in her voice as she chatted, and his own crept up in response as she talked about her last shift. There was something nice about listening to her talk about everyday, mundane things. He'd never really befriended anyone outside of the team, someone living a routine human life, devoid of murderous villains and giant metal robots. Christine's job was a sort of adventure, too, waiting on test results or helping solve the mystery of a child's illness, but most days, it was simply a routine.

“I got to thinking,” she said, obviously leading up to something, “We've both had a tough week.”

Kurt wondered how long they could continue to milk that excuse, and when they would simply say _I want to see you_.

“Would you like to meet somewhere?” he said, winning a happy laugh from her.

“I was thinking exactly that. Meet me in the city for dinner and dancing?”

“I have to take it easy,” he said, though he had no intention of missing out on any fun activities. “Doctor's orders.”

“I'll go easy on you,” she promised.

The implication was clear. Kurt swallowed his frustration. _It shouldn't be this hard_. He wondered if he should just sleep with her. Would it really be so bad to give in? She was certainly his type, so why was he having such a hard time deciding that he liked her?

  
  


The club Christine chose for both dinner and entertainment was dark, with a blue light cast over everything. Kurt didn't bother with the image inducer much anymore, but without it, he was almost invisible. Christine asked about Feuer while they waited for dinner to be brought to the table. He knew she was being kind, but the reminder still put a damper on the good mood he'd been trying so hard to cultivate with beer and the company of a beautiful woman. He just couldn't seem to work through what had happened. Maybe he _should_ talk to someone. But not Christine.

Suddenly, he wanted very much to go home. Not to Germany, or the school, or even his room—

Christine leaned over and patted his hand, and he smiled automatically. “I spoke to him earlier,” Kurt said quickly, swirling the bottle's contents but not drinking. “He's being released in a few days.”

“That's great news!” Christine's happy smile was genuine, and her hand covering his gave a light squeeze. “And how are you healing? That burn on your shoulder looked pretty bad.”

“Hank said my shoulder is fine, but I'll have some scars from Vermin's attack. Apparently Man-Thing didn't burn deep enough to scar.”

She smirked. “Someone like you shouldn't worry about scars.”

“Someone like me?”

“Yeah. They just make you even sexier.”

He didn't bother responding to that. His dinner was rapidly cooling on his plate, so he focused on eating. As soon as they finished, he stood up and held out his hand. “Let's dance. I need to move.”

Even the dancing wasn't quite what he wanted. The beat was too heavy, or too fast, or too loud. It wasn't a lack of rhythm or grace that made him feel awkward, it was that he didn't want to be here. He and Christine seemed to move out of sync, bumping into one another now and then. She laughed every time, and he wondered if it was intentional. Kurt willed himself to relax and have a good time, but nothing seemed to work. Christine finally noticed his discomfort and stopped dancing to lean on his chest. She was panting, and as she pressed her body against his, her eyes held the offer of more heavy breathing later, if he wanted.

“You wanna get out of here?”

“ _Ja_ , I do,” he said. He followed her out of the club, to the relative quiet of the street. His ears felt full of cotton and he tugged at them.

“It was pretty loud,” Christine said. “Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize. I believe it was standard volume for most clubs.”

He gave her a kind smile and offered his arm as they strolled back to her apartment, stopping when she would have continued up the steps. Her hand was still hooked in his arm, and she glanced back in confusion.

“I don't suppose you want to watch another boring movie?” she said, not quite tugging on his arm.

Christine stood a few steps up from him, her dress tight enough to leave little to his imagination. It wasn't a question of whether or not she was attractive—she was. It wasn't a question of her willingness—she was. She'd even told him once before, when he'd been working the demon case, that she was open to the benefits without the commitment. It would be easy enough to go to bed with her and lose himself in her sheets and her body for a while. It was a question of why it was so much easier to say no.

“Thank you, Christine, but I'm going to head home. My mind is still in Germany,” he said, settling on something he thought she might understand, but wasn't a complete lie. “I'm afraid I'm not in a good place to enjoy anyone's company right now.”

She stepped down onto the sidewalk and stood close to him, but not touching. “I understand,” she said. “You're still grieving. If there's any way I can help...”

“Thank you.” He took a step back from the foot of her apartment stairs and waited to make sure she got in safely. She waved from the door and disappeared. Kurt took his time walking home, thinking about what it was he really wanted. He knew what it was, if he was honest with himself. He wanted someone he loved, and as beautiful as Christine was, as much of a friend as she might become, he didn't love her that way.

  
  


Kitty was in the rec room with Ororo and a crowd of his teammates gathered around a makeshift karaoke stage. One of the kids had set it up in the corner and now Ororo was belting out some popular tune at the top of her lungs, absolutely killing it. Kurt paused in the doorway to marvel at her talent. When she finished, she bowed to a chorus of cheers.

“Look who has joined us,” she said as she stepped off the platform they were using as a stage. “Why don't you sing for us, Kurt?”

“Ah, I don't think so.” He held up his hands in protest and started to back away.

“Everyone is taking a turn, and no one gets booed,” she assured him, sidling over to take his arm and urge him up to the stage.

“I'd really rather not.”

“Ororo, you sing another one and let Kurt dance,” Kitty said, hopping up from her seat.

“Again, I'd rather pass,” he said. He would have teleported away already, but something in Kitty's face had fixed him to the spot.

“I'll dance with you. Come on, it's a good compromise.” She smiled, and he found himself giving in.

“All right.”

Ororo got behind the mic again and Bobby keyed up the next song she wanted. Kitty called to some of the others to get up and dance, then grabbed Kurt's hand and pulled him into the crowd. “You're welcome,” she said.

“I appreciate your intervention,” he said. He moved stiffly, eyeing the others around him. “Do you swing?”

Kitty's face blanched. “Excuse me?”

“Do you swing? It's a fast dance where—”

“Oh.” She laughed her relief. “I thought you meant—never mind. I've never done that dance before, but if you show me, I'll give it a try.”

He grinned deviously. “Then everyone else needs to sit down.”

“I saved you from karaoke!”

“And this is my gift to you. A dance that will leave you breathless.”

Her smile changed subtly, and her face went soft, like her voice. “All right.”

Ororo's song had ended and she marched towards Kurt. “You cheated,” she said. “You didn't dance.”

“I'm about to, if you'll permit.” He went to Bobby and scanned the list of songs, chose one, and returned.

Bobby called for volunteers to sing, and two of the kids got up as the music started. “Excuse us, Ororo, but we need space for this,” Kurt said as he took Kitty's hand.

Her eyes were full of apprehension. “Trust me,” he said. “I won't let you fall.”

“I've always trusted you.” She blushed, and he stopped her before she could say something about her early fear of him.

“I know. Here we go.”

The beat was fast, the song was familiar, and Kitty's face was pink with exertion by the time they finished. She was a fast learner and he was a good teacher. She collapsed against him at the end, laughing and panting. Some of the kids wanted to learn, so Kurt promised to show them after a water break.

  
  


By the end of the evening, everyone was happily tired, and Kitty had shoved herself under his arm on the couch to catch her breath.

“Did you have fun?” she said, turning slightly to see his face.

He was startled by how beautiful she looked in that moment, cheeks still slightly flushed, eyes bright and happy.

“ _Ja_. It was wonderful. Thank you.”

Dancing with Kitty had felt perfectly natural. They'd worked together so long, Kurt thought it must have made them more attuned to each other's rhythms. She tucked her cheek against him again, and he stroked her arm absently while he lost himself in thoughts of how she made him feel.

“Where were you?” she said, and brought him back to reality with a thud.

“With Christine. We had dinner at a club.”

“So you've been dancing all night.” She sat up and turned on the couch, crossing her legs and leaning into the cushions instead of his chest. He felt irrationally angry at the cushions.

“Not exactly. We didn't stay long. It was loud,” he added as explanation.

“I'm sorry the date didn't go well. But I'm glad you joined us.”

“So am I.”


	4. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Tuesday, Kurt trained with Logan.

It felt good to push himself in training with Logan. Fighting his friend—even in practice—was always an exercise in cheating death. It required focus, determination, and speed. Kurt couldn't match him for sheer strength, but he had the agility to avoid the worst of his blows. Logan got in a few good hits, but Kurt did, too, until Kitty called from the control booth that it was time to quit.

Now there was a woman he couldn't say no to.

She waved when they looked up at her announcement. “You guys wanna get some beer?” she said.

Kurt was surprised at how much he wanted to do that. He turned to Logan, but he was already stripping off his shirt and heading to the showers.

“Can't, Half Pint, sorry. Got a date.”

Kitty floated down from the control room to walk out with Kurt. “You still wanna hang out?”

He absolutely did. “I'll bring the beer. Could we sit outside?”

“Sure, how about the dock? Sunset's early these days. It might be pretty.”

“I just need a quick shower and I'll meet you there.”

  
  


Kurt swung his legs over the water at the end of the dock, sipping beer beside Kitty, who was doing the same thing. It was a chilly November evening, but their coats were warm and the fresh air was a pleasant change from the humid heat of the Danger Room. As predicted, the sun had begun to set, and the sky was shifting through different shades of orange and pink. A breeze off the water ruffled her hair, sending curls into her face until she yanked it all back into a ponytail.

“So Logan's been out with Ororo a lot lately,” Kitty said, breaking the easy silence. “And last night, he was definitely staring at her the whole time she was singing.”

“Really?” Kurt hadn't realized it was a serious thing when Logan and Ororo had accompanied him and Christine to see _The Phantom of the Opera_.

“Yeah, even the kids are talking about it. It's kinda funny.”

“They are dating?”

“I don't know. You're the one who went on the double date with them.”

“ _Ja_ , but I didn't notice anything romantic between them then, or last night. And he hasn't mentioned it to me.”

“Logan keeps to himself,” she said and took a sip of beer. “Like some other guys I know.” She gave him a pointed look.

“Me?”

“Yep.”

Kurt swallowed the guilty feeling with more beer. “I'm not dating anyone.”

Kitty held the beer between her knees and kicked her feet out, rotating her ankles. “Not even Christine?”

“Not even Christine. We're just friends.”

“Are you sure?”

Kurt wasn't sure if she was teasing him or not, and laughed with some difficulty. “Fairly sure, Kätzchen.”

Kitty finished her beer and put the empty bottle back in the cooler until they could recycle it. Kurt could feel her staring at him, and he was grateful she couldn't see how flushed he felt. Did even Kitty want him to date Christine?

“Don't you like her? She's pretty.” Kitty said, trying again. “And totally your type.”

“Why this sudden interest?”

“It's not sudden. I'm interested because you're my friend and I want you to be happy. I know she likes you, and you've been out with her several times.”

Kurt swallowed more beer and wished he was drunk. At least the conversation wouldn't be as painful.

He turned to Kitty and said with certainty, “I like her well enough. I don't _want_ to date her.”

“Any particular reason?” Kitty pressed.

He tamped down the rising frustration. He didn't want to talk about Christine. “ _No_. She's perfectly nice. She's very pretty.”

“And she likes you a lot.”

“I'm aware.” He said stiffly, praying she'd drop the subject.

“Okay.” She scrounged around in the little cooler to see if there was another unopened beer. She pulled it out and opened it, taking a long sip. “So how was Germany? You never did tell me how it went.”

“ _Verdammt_ , is this twenty questions tonight?” he said, his tone harsh as he knocked the bottle against the decking. As soon as the words were out, he was sorry.

Kitty rocked back in surprise. “Forget I asked.”

“I'm sorry, Kätzchen, I haven't been sleeping well and I'm afraid I—I'm sorry.”

Kitty sipped her beer and gazed across the lake. Then she turned to him. “Why don't you tell me what's really going on?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You haven't been yourself since you got back from Germany. You're tired all the time, short-tempered, going on dates and not having any fun. I'm worried about you.”

“I'm fine, Kätzchen.” Silence descended, heavy and uncomfortable. It was a lie and he knew it, and the guilt from that, or maybe from snapping at her, made Kurt say, “It's Christine.”

When he didn't elaborate, Kitty said, “What about her?”

Her voice unmoored him with its gentleness and concern.

“Ever since Germany, she—”

“She was with you in Germany?”

Kurt swallowed. He had forgotten she didn't know. “Yes. She was the one who suggested I go home. I didn't feel I could tell her no.”

“Why was that a secret?” She wasn't drinking her beer anymore, but she didn't sound angry.

“I...I don't know,” he said, faltering. “I was afraid you might be upset. Or jealous.”

She made a little sound, not quite a laugh. “I'm not fifteen anymore. And you're allowed to have other friends. You should've just told me. So what's going on with her?”

“She's...we're just friends.”

“You said that before, a couple times. She doesn't want that?”

Kurt shook his head. “No. I don't know what to do.”

“Tell her the truth, Kurt. How do you really feel about her?”

“I like her, as a friend.”

“So tell her that.”

“I _have_ ,” he sighed. “It feels like she's waiting for me to change my mind.”

“Well, maybe she's confused. You took her to Germany, which is kinda personal, so she might think that means you have stronger feelings for her than you're saying.”

“You're saying it's my fault?” He frowned at his beer bottle.

“Not intentionally, but yeah, pretty much.”

He wanted to argue with her, but he could see her point. “She asked to go. I've told her we're friends.”

“You might have to keep telling her. And you might have to back off a while.”

He was annoyed, not at Kitty as much as at himself for not being smarter about it. He shouldn't have taken Christine with him, even though she'd asked. She hadn't helped anything, all she'd done was get hurt and almost die. He'd been stupid to bring her, and Kitty didn't have to say it for him to understand.

“All right. I see your point.”

They finished their beer in silence, and when they stood up, Kitty touched his arm. “You really should have told me. You don't have to keep secrets from me.”

“I wasn't.”

She rocked back on one hip with a wry expression. “Then what was it?”

He fumbled for an answer, and in irritation finally said, “I don't know. Why is it so important?”

Her shoulders dipped almost imperceptibly when she said, “I guess it isn't.”


	5. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Wednesday, Kurt had a psychic evaluation. Apparently the Soul Sword is making him younger, at least according to Emma in the comic. No mention of that here.

Keeping Emma out of his personal thoughts while she scanned his brain for any lingering demonic possessions wasn't easy with so much on his mind. In fact, he was pretty sure she noticed a few things, though she didn't mention them, other than a teasing comment suggesting he might consider talking to someone about his mother. Which mother, she didn't specify. Both, probably.

His birth mother, Mystique, hadn't raised him, and had told him to his face she was _glad_ she'd tried to kill him as a baby. Margali was different. She'd raised him as her own, though now when he looked back, he could see that she'd used the phrase more loosely as he grew. She'd sent him to her version of hell, convinced Amanda to bring her the Soul Sword in order to murder her way to more power, and hidden that same sword inside his own body without bothering to tell him. Yes, maybe he should talk to someone about her. But it certainly wasn't going to be Emma.

And maybe, after thinking about his foster family so much in the morning, he shouldn't have been surprised when Amanda appeared in his room that afternoon in a stepping disc of light.

“We need to talk,” she said without preamble.

“ _Hallo_ to you, too,” he said. “You _could_ knock.”

“I don't have time.”

“You never do. What is it?”

“You need to come with me.”

  
  


Limbo was a dimension of mysteries, at least to Kurt. There were aspects he understood, but much of it was beyond him. This was Illyana's realm, currently in Amanda's hands. Kurt didn't enjoy visiting, even when he'd needed Amanda's help solving the mystery of the fourteen demons. Those visits had been out of necessity rather than a desire to see where she lived. Although, Ororo had offered to contact Stephen Strange for him. He wondered now why he'd gone to see Amanda then. Was that more manipulation? The pull of the Sword, wanting to return to Limbo? Or something else? His head pounded from lack of sleep and stress.

Today they rode large, lumbering beasts around the borders of Limbo, while Amanda told him about the crumbling boundaries between realms.

“There are beings passing between the different realms, and they shouldn't be able to. Each time it happens, the lines blur a little more.”

“That doesn't sound good.”

“Even Nightmare felt it,” Amanda said. “And you said Hive mentioned it, too.”

“Yes,” Kurt said, looking around somewhat uneasily. There were visible cracks in the wall they rode beside. He should have brought his swords. “Is there nothing you can do?”

“I don't know yet. Maybe. But...it's bad, Kurt. If this continues, if it isn't stopped, Earth may be in trouble.”

“Trouble?”

She sighed, that haughty sound she made when she had to explain herself. “The walls are crumbling, and that means the barrier between Earth and the various dimensions beyond, such as Limbo, is also crumbling. You'll probably be seeing a lot more demons and creatures that don't belong there. Eventually, the walls will be completely destroyed and there will be nothing left to stop them overrunning Earth.”

That was a sobering thought. He imagined the fourteen demons he'd confronted multiplied by a million or more, taking over the world. He shivered.

“Thank you for the warning. There must be something we can do.” He looked at the wall again, reached out his hand but did not touch. “Could we shore the walls up somehow?”

She laughed. “No, they don't work that way, but nice try. I don't know if there's _anything_ we can do. I'm trying to figure something out, but you need to be prepared.”

“How? If this happens, our destruction is guaranteed. How do we prepare for that?”

“Make peace with your maker?”

  
  


Kurt retreated to the library to do more research. Amanda's revelation about the walls corroborated Hive's statement in Florida before he died. And if Amanda and the other guardians of those realms couldn't stop it, Earth was very likely doomed. It made his head pound to think about it. There had to be more information somewhere. He pulled out stacks of books from Xavier's extensive collection, scattering them across one of the long tables with a notebook.

He didn't know how long he'd been there when Kitty came in. She had papers with her, and she stood in the doorway a long moment before coming inside.

“Scott wants you to sign these,” she said. “You didn't answer your comm.”

“I didn't have it on me, and I was in Limbo earlier.” He looked at the papers, then at her. She looked wary, so he smiled and said, “Sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to snap at you.”

She shrugged, stepping closer, and noticed what he was doing. She sat down on the other side of the table. “New case? What's this, more demons? Doesn't Ororo think maybe you've had enough of those?”

He let her go on, not correcting her false assumptions. He signed the papers for Scott and slid them across to her. “ _Ja_ , it's been difficult.”

“I'll be right back.”

She was back in less than five minutes and dropped back into the same chair. “What are we looking for?”

Kurt hesitated, then decided there was no harm letting her research with him. “The demon's name is Hive. He may be dead, I'm not sure. He claims a war is brewing between good and evil, and that it will be coming here, to Earth. Today, Amanda told me the walls in the other realms are breaking down, so it would seem Hive may be telling the truth. I'm trying to find anything to support the rest of what he said.”

She picked through the books and chose one, flipping through the contents to read. “You got another pen?”

He handed her one, along with some pages from the notebook. “Thank you,” he said, then tried again to apologize. “I'm sorry about—”

She cut him off. “No problem. Ororo should've given this to someone else though.”

“Mm.”

They worked for a few hours, talking a little about the possibilities. Kurt thought perhaps Belasco was involved, though Hive claimed he wasn't. Kitty agreed.

“He's powerful compared to us, but to other demons, he's just small time. Think about how easily we've defeated him in the past.”

“Easily?”

“Relatively speaking,” she said. She pulled her hair back in a ponytail, a few tendrils escaping before she collected them. “Think about it, though. We got Illyana back from him. We all escaped Limbo when he was the ruler. And that time you and Piotr and I were in that weird doppelganger world.”

“I see what you mean. If not him, then who could be instigating all of this?”

“There are tons of demons more powerful than Belasco. Look, this is just one list.” She showed him a page in a book. “The options are literally in the thousands. What else do we know?”

“Not much. Hive said the war has been brewing for some time, since before we were born. He said the dark side—”

Kitty giggled. “Darth Vader's in charge?”

Kurt couldn't help his return smile. “ _Ja,_ it would seem so. At this point, anything is possible, Kätzchen. Vader's team has been assembling—”

Kitty broke out laughing again. “The Death Star?”

“Storm Troopers are already in Limbo,” Kurt said, to watch her laugh again.

“Sorry,” she said at last, “I think my brain is fried. Can we take a break?”

“Sure. What do you have in mind?”

“For some reason, I have this weird desire to watch _Star Wars_...”


	6. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Thursday it was Kurt's birthday, he had an unexpected visitor, and started a fight with his best friend.

Kurt spent part of the next day going over all his notes about Hive and what Amanda had told him, looking for clues that might stop the breakdown of barriers. He thought back to the incident with Dr. Childs and Seth, and added notes on anything that felt relevant from that, though it still seemed like an unrelated coincidence.

He did a short, dissatisfying workout alone, had some dinner alone in his room, and took more notes. When Scott called him down, supposedly to look at some paperwork (how much could there be?), Kurt was surprised at how late it was. He'd been working for several hours in his room, without a single interruption. It was almost unheard of. A cursory glance at his calendar provided the reason. His birthday. He didn't need this tonight, but some things he simply couldn't fight.

The house was dark and quiet, except for a thin beam of light spilling from the library door, and the muffled sound of whispers behind it. Kurt opened the door, acting surprised with a big smile as his friends started singing _Happy Birthday_. Christine stepped forward, turning his feigned surprise into real shock. She held a homemade cake covered in white frosting and too many candles. His friends cheered, urging him to make a wish and blow out the candles Lockheed lit in one fiery exhale. Choosing his wish was easy, but the world around him froze before he could expel the deep breath he'd taken.

He could see his breath in the chill that descended on the house. The candle flames ceased flickering, his friends were statues, and in the first seconds of confusion, he thought the professor had come to surprise him. The bitter cold air and the malevolent feeling in the air said otherwise. Scuffling noises drew Kurt down the hall to the same parlor he and Kitty had talked in yesterday. As he approached the open doorway, he drew the Soul Sword, brandishing it as he stepped inside. Whoever was waiting for him, Kurt felt certain this wasn't going to be a conversation with a friend. Kurt moved around the room to see who was sitting in the armchair warming his feet at the fire. Mephistopheles.

“What are you doing here?” Kurt said.

“You can put that away, Nightcrawler. I came only to talk.”

“Not in my house,” Kurt said, refusing to drop the sword.

Mephisto looked bored as he teleported them instantly into the yard. “Better?”

Kurt didn't take his eyes off Mephisto, but he could see they were in front of the school. The wind picked up as Kurt slowly lowered the sword but did not return it to his body.

“My friends inside. Are they—”

“They're fine. I stopped time around them. Handy trick, hm?” The devil grinned wickedly and tried to put his hand on Kurt's shoulder.

He jerked away. “No touching. What do you want?”

“I've come to share some information with you. You already know about the breakdown of barriers between worlds. And you suspect there is no way to stop what has been brewing for centuries. You're correct. You can't stop it. A war is coming, Nightcrawler.”

Mephisto continued speaking as they walked, offering explanations for many events of the past few weeks, indicating they were all related and nothing was coincidence. Even the subway ghosts had taken advantage of the weakening barriers. Kurt wasn't inclined to believe anything the devil said, even if he wasn't the actual devil. Even if he _was_. Still, his explanations did make a certain sense, and Kurt couldn't deny the diabolical logic of it.

“What's the point of telling me all this?” Kurt said when Mephisto paused. “Since you say there is no way to stop it, and choices are beyond my control, why bother telling me anything?”

“Because you _do_ have a choice, Nightcrawler. I've come to offer you a deal. Turning you to our side is clearly not possible, but if you agree to do nothing, I will give you what you want most. Your friends and family, safe and protected from the war as you know only I can do. And your brother, Stephan. I can return him to you, alive and well and healthy.”

Kurt's eyes narrowed in anger. How dare Mephisto think he could be bribed so easily? Slamming his fist into the devil's face was possibly one of the less intelligent things Kurt had ever done, but he was on a roll lately. Why stop halfway? He prepared to fight, to die on his birthday again. There was no possible way he could defeat a being as ancient and powerful as Mephistopheles.

“I'd sooner burn in hell myself than negotiate with you!”

But Mephisto wasn't interested in fighting, at least not this night. “War then?” he said smoothly.

“War.”

“You are a fool.”

  
  


When Mephisto vanished, Kurt found himself standing back in the library, faced with burning candles dripping wax onto the icing. His breath was slightly unsteady as he said a prayer and blew them out. He needed to think about what had just happened but Christine's eyes were waiting when he raised his to look around. Behind her, the rest of his friends were already grabbing plates and napkins and drinks. Kurt scanned for Kitty, but she was behind a table opening bags of chips and pouring dip into a container.

“Haven't seen you in a while,” Christine said as she took the cake to the table to be cut. Kurt followed, hoping to catch Kitty and tell her about Mephisto's visit. He'd just corroborated everything Hive and Amanda had said, and Kurt was fairly sure he was behind it all. He was certainly powerful enough.

Kurt rubbed the back of his neck. “I know. I'm sorry. It's been—”

“A busy week. For me, too.” She handed him a plate and fork. “It's okay. I actually—oh, thank you Dr. McCoy.”

“Wine, Kurt?” Hank said, patting his back. “Happy birthday, my friend.”

“Thank you, Henry.” Kurt took a sip of wine, and set it down when Hank turned around.

“So how are you? How's Feuer? Is he out of the hospital yet?”

Kurt nodded. “ _Ja_ , I believe he was released a few days ago. Thank you for asking.”

“It's the least I can do. I know that was hard.”

Kurt's hands were still shaking slightly from his encounter with the devil, and he shoved them into his pockets. He saw Kitty slip away from the snack table to the drink table, pouring wine and setting out more cold beer. Christine was still smiling at him when he turned around, holding her own glass in front of her like a shield.

“How are you, Christine?” he said, to be polite. At some point he'd have to take her aside and talk to her. After he'd had a minute to think with a clear head.

“I'm all right. Working a lot.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, the usual twelves. My department transfer finally came through, right when I decided—”

“Elf!” Logan called over the crowd. “Get over here and open some presents.” Christine closed her mouth in polite frustration as Logan grabbed Kurt's arm. His hand was yanked free of his pocket as Logan dragged him to the pile of wrapped gifts and bags set up on another table near the window. Kurt hesitated to look out that window, afraid he'd find Mephisto still watching. But the panes were blank, with only the vague suggestion of tree branches blowing in the wind on the far edge of the yard. A shiver passed down his spine, and when he lifted his head to focus on his friends, Kitty was looking at him with that same concern he'd seen in her face all week.

Kurt dutifully opened gifts and read the cards, thankful that there were no cowboy hats or portraits or crystal figures of himself. He thanked each of his friends, smiling and laughing for their benefit, while he secretly wished the party would end already. He needed to understand what had happened with Mephisto, and he couldn't think here. And he wanted to talk to Kitty about it, but she always was busy. And Christine seemed to be wherever he was, smiling hopefully.

At last he was able to slip out unnoticed, heading back outside to let the cold air shock him back to himself. He wandered away from where he'd walked earlier, stopping beneath a tree to breathe in that crisp, biting air and _think_. The rough, solid trunk felt like a tether to the earth, and he leaned against it gratefully. Mephisto's appearance had shaken him, and seeing Christine hadn't helped.

Kurt's doubts had finally lifted. He was ready to end things with Christine. No matter how beautiful or shapely she was, or how she felt about him, he didn't want a romantic relationship with her, and she seemed unable to let the possibility go. When she appeared in the dark with more wine, he was actually glad.

“Kurt? Why are you out here?” she said, handing him another glass of wine. “Aren't you enjoying your party?”

“I am, yes, but, I'm not the kind of person for whom celebrating his birthday is a priority.”

She tried to make a joke of it. “ _Hm_ , doesn't like musicals and doesn't like celebrating his birthday. No, we never would have made it.”

He didn't bother correcting her misconception when he said, “I've been thinking about that.”

She misunderstood him. “It's too late, Kurt. I'm leaving. I've been trying to tell you all night. I'm moving back to Tucson, with my mom.”

Whatever she thought he meant no longer mattered. It was anticlimactic in a way, to learn she was leaving. He rocked back against the trunk again.

“Oh. I don't know what to say.”

“That you're sad? That you'll miss me?” she supplied.

“Yes, I am, I will.”

“That we had a good run?”

“We did. Christine,” Kurt touched her arm. “I'm sorry.”

“That you met me?”

“No, never that. I'm sorry things didn't turn out for you the way you hoped.”

She looked down. “That's not your fault. You never lied to me about what you wanted.”

“When did you make this decision?” he said. “You never mentioned the possibility.”

“I...I've been thinking about it since we got back from Florida, but I wasn't sure. I thought, if _we_ worked out I'd stay. But then I realized that was a stupid reason to stay in a city where I wasn't happy.”

She put her arms out to hug him, turning her face so that her breath ruffled the fur at the base of his throat when she spoke. “I'll miss you,” she said, and leaned up to kiss him. He didn't push her away, but he didn't encourage her, either. When she broke the kiss, she said, “Yeah, we never would have made it if that's how you kiss.”

  
  


Kurt pushed the front door shut against the wind and leaned against it. The temperature had dropped several more degrees since Mephisto's visit, and the wind had a new chill to it. He and Christine had been outside a while, talking and saying good-bye, and he assumed the party had long since broken up.

Light from the library still lit the hall, but there was no talking or laughing. Maybe the light had simply been left on, or maybe Mephisto had returned. He approached cautiously, but only Kitty was in the room. She was cleaning up alone, hair swept into a messy ponytail as she shoved paper plates and spilled food into a trash bag. She cursed when she put her hand into a pile of frosting left on a plate.

“Kätzchen,” he said from the doorway, and she turned with a start.

“Hey.”

He went into the room, glancing around at the remaining mess, eyes lingering at the window where he'd last seen Mephisto's face. Kitty kept working, stuffing trash into the bag with a forcefulness that seemed unwarranted.

“Thank you for the party.”

She finished cleaning the table and bent to pick up some discarded napkins that had fallen under it.

“It was Ororo's idea,” she said when she crawled out and stood. “But _I_ know you, she said.”

He could feel the tension between them, but wasn't sure what had caused it.

“So I planned it,” Kitty continued, “and you missed out on karaoke.”

“A shame. We could have danced again.”

“Yeah. Where's Christine? She left her plate.”

“She went home.”

“Can you get this to her?” She held it out, realizing her hand was still covered in icing, and cursed again. “Never mind, I need to wash it first.”

Kitty cast around for something to wipe her messy hand on. A thick strand of hair had come loose from her ponytail, and she wiped at it with her shoulder to no avail.

“Let me help,” he said, stepping closer as she blew the lock of hair from her eyes again.

“No, it's fine,” she said, but he was already touching her, his hands on her face.

He gently gathered the loose strands of hair and smoothed them back, meticulously tucking them into the elastic. Her cheeks were flushed pink when he finished, her brows knit in irritation.

“Thanks.”

Kurt took the bag from her, tying it shut and chucking it at the doorway. “Kätzchen, I need to talk to you. I wanted to talk to you all night but...”

“So do I,” she said before he could continue. “What happened to Feuer?”

“Feuer?” She'd overheard. “He was in the hospital.”

“How did Christine know that?”

“She was there when he was hurt.”

“In Germany.”

“On the trip.”

Kitty nodded. “On the trip. What else happened _on the trip_ that I might want to know about?”

“Nothing, Kätzchen, it's personal, you don't need—”

“Yes, I do. Kurt, I'm not stupid. I see how you've been. Something is eating you up, and I don't understand why you won't talk to me.”

“I'm fine, it's nothing to be concerned about.”

“Like hell. You don't sleep, I never see you eat. Did you even have a piece of cake? You didn't drink the wine, you hole up in your room or the library reading about demons. Are you talking to _anyone_ about this?”

Kurt shifted on his feet and crossed his arms. “No. I don't need to talk to someone. Everything is fine. Emma said so.”

Kitty ignored this last. Emma was not high on Kitty's list of people she liked. “What about Christine? She obviously knows what's going on, why don't you talk to her?”

“I don't _want_ to talk to her.”

“But you were kissing her. She knew about Feuer—” She gestured at the window as if Christine was still out there.

“Were you spying on me?” Kurt scowled at her, lips a thin angry line.

“No, I was _looking_ for you because you ditched your birthday party.”

“You had no right to do that.”

“No right—are you kidding? You gave me a perfectly good reason to look for you! How the hell was I supposed to know you were making out with a woman you told me you don't even like?”

“How dare you suggest—”

“The truth?” Kitty faced him down, unafraid.

He whirled, pacing to the wall and back. “ _She_ kissed _me_. You don't know—”

“No, I _don't_ know, because you don't tell me a goddamn thing!”

“That's a lie.” His chest ached with anger, tightening in a grip around his heart. He hated it, because she was right, and he knew it. Fatigue and stubbornness refused to let him see reason, Mephisto's laugh echoed in the back of his head, and mocked his dead friends.

Kitty relented slightly. “You don't tell me anything that actually matters.”

Anger and frustration boiled over. It was too much. All of it, the pain and grief and anger at himself and his family, his fear for his friends, Kitty's truths hitting home and blinding him with his own mistakes.

“You would like to know something that matters? Everyone I knew from the circus in Winzeldorf is dead.”

He watched with satisfaction as her face went pale, then immediately felt guilty. Then angry at his own guilt. She'd demanded to know something that mattered. She could deal with it.

She started forward, her arms outstretched, but he stepped away. “I don't need your pity.”

He teleported to his room and shut the door loud enough for it to echo down the hallway. Not that it would stop her if she took it into her head to come in.

  
  


He paced, panting as if he'd finished an entire trapeze performance. His head ached, his heart was pounding. He sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands. Kitty was right. He should have talked to someone. He should have talked to _her_. How much of this would have been avoided if only he hadn't insisted on keeping secrets that weren't even secrets? There was no reason to keep the deaths from her other than to avoid her sympathy and comfort. Christine was confused because of him, and Kitty was hurt because of him, and he was miserable.

A few minutes spent taking deep breaths and accepting everything he'd screwed up, and he wanted to find her. He had to apologize to her. He felt weary to his bones as he gathered himself to go find her. And then he didn't have to, because she was knocking at his door.

“Kätzchen,” he said, finding the energy to rise. “Come in.”

He met her at the door, and every muscle in his body trying to leap into her arms while he held them back. “I'm so sorry, Kätzchen, please forgive me.”

“Are you finally going to admit you're not all right?” she said.

He ran a hand down his face, realized it was trembling. “I'm not all right.”

She turned to him, and he stopped holding himself back. She pulled him tight against her, and it felt good to know she was here, to feel her gripping him. He didn't realize he was crying until he felt the wetness in her hair, but it was all right. He understood at last that she was exactly the remedy he needed. When he stood up and wiped his eyes, he was surprised to see hers were pink and wet, too.

He let her go to shut his door and make his weary way to the bed, dropping to the edge with a sigh. Kitty followed, stopping in front of him to run her fingers through his hair. It felt good, like love. He leaned his head on her stomach and put his arms around her. She stroked his head, and spoke in a soft voice.

“I'm so sorry, Kurt, for everything you've lost.”

How did she know it felt like so much more than the circus? How could she possibly guess? He pulled her closer and asked, “How do you know?”

“I don't, I just know you.”

“I thought I was doing a fair job hiding it.”

She didn't laugh. “Maybe to some people, but not me. At first I thought you were tired or homesick. But it didn't take long to figure out it was more than that.”

“I should have talked to you.”

“Yes, but the past can't be changed, and I'm not going to fuss at you about that anymore. I'm sorry I was so hard on you.”

“You didn't know.”

“But I knew there was _something_.” She sat down beside him, pulling his head against her shoulder.

“I thought I should deal with it myself.”

“You always think that.”

“Yes. You've told me so before.”

“I'm sure I'll tell you again.” She was petting him again, her hand moving up and down his arm while she held him.

“They were looking for the Soul Sword.”

“Who was?”

“The creatures. When they didn't find it, they killed them. Feuer lived, somehow. He told us they were going to Florida.”

“The other circus?”

He nodded. “To kill them, too. We beat them by...maybe half an hour.”

He told her about trying to save Jardine, about Logan being possessed and stabbing Christine, about his family arriving with Nightmare. The whole time, she kept her arm around him and he began to realize how much he'd kept from her and how stupid it had been. If he'd only gone to her right away, he could have had her support all this time.

When he finished telling her about Amanda and Margali, and their roles, he had to sit up and stretch his back.

“I can't believe all this happened, and you've been trying to deal with it alone.”

Kurt breathed out heavily, unsure himself of the answer. But Kitty had one. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands in her lap, looking at him not with pity, as he'd accused her, but something better. Something he should have recognized long ago.

“You were in shock,” she said. “Grieving and betrayed. I should have made you tell me sooner, but I hoped you were talking to Christine.”

He shook his head. “She is a nice person. But she's not the kind I want to confide in. She has no idea what this life is like, and she doesn't know me. Not like you.” He caught her eyes when he said that.

“Sometimes I think I don't know you at all.”

He sat down again, yawning, and took her hand.

“You've known me a long time.”

“Since before I joined the team.”

“And you were fifteen the first time you told me to stop shouldering everything all on my own.” He yawned so hard his jaw cracked.

“You need sleep,” she said, running her hand through his hair and over his shoulders.

He closed his eyes and braced himself. “I can't, not yet. There's more.”

“Oh god, are you serious?”

“Mephistopheles was here tonight.”

She just blinked at him, but her hand gripped his tight enough to hurt as he told her what Mephisto had revealed.

“Everything Hive said, everything Amanda said, it's all true, if we're to believe the devil. The war, the walls weakening.”

Kitty let go of his hand and flexed her fingers. “But why would he tell you all of that?”

“He wanted to bribe me to stay out of it. He offered to keep my friends and family safe and bring Stephan back. My family has something to do with all of this.”

“He wanted you to stay out of it?”

“ _Ja_ , to not interfere. I punched him.”

Kitty laughed. “I wish I'd seen that.”

“I thought I might die on my birthday again.” He crawled up the bed to the pillow and fell onto it, not bothering to undress.

“Hold on,” she said and reached up, grabbed the jacket he was still wearing—he hadn't even noticed—and phased it off.

“Kitty?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry for what I said to you. And more so for what I did not say to you.”

“I'm sorry, too. And I forgive you.”

“Kätzchen. Will you stay?”

She was quiet so long, he thought she must be trying to find a way to tell him no. Slowly, she sat down on the bed, turned and lay down beside him.

“I'll stay.” She whispered it against his ear, the sweetest sound.

He hadn't realized how desperately he wanted her to stay—needed her to stay—until she said she would. He rolled over to face her, not touching her for fear of sending her away after all.

“Thank you.”

“Kurt,” she said as he was drifting off, “I've always been here.”


	7. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Friday, things started to look up.

Kurt woke with Kitty in his arms, both still dressed from the night before. She was awake, lying still and patient.

“It's late,” he mumbled apologetically.

“It's only eight thirty.”

“That's late.” He released her slowly, rolling to his back and rubbing his eyes.

“For you,” she said. “You needed the sleep, though. And a friend.”

“I did. Thank you for staying.” He rolled over again and touched her face. “I needed someone brave enough to tell me to get myself together, and kind enough to comfort me when I tried.”

“You said something about your family being involved.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes. Hive said...” he paused and turned his head to see her. “That day you helped me in the library? That wasn't a job from Ororo. That was a lie.”

“I knew that.”

“You knew?”

She nodded. “I figured if you were lying to my face about it, there was a reason. I thought if I sat there and helped you, maybe you'd remember you could trust me.”

He ran a hand down his face. “I—”

Kitty scooted closer, back into his arms, laying her hand flat on his chest and scratching idly through his shirt.

“You haven't been yourself. I can't remember another time you lied to me like that.” She picked up her head. “Don't you dare do it again.”

He was distracted momentarily by the shape of her lips forming those words, teasing him and trying to lighten the mood. For him. Because she was worried. Because...

“I was thinking about Mephisto,” she continued.

“I don't want to believe that really happened.”

“You said it did. Anyway, he came to bribe you to stay out of the way. Why would he do that if you couldn't alter the outcome? If you were as useless and helpless as anyone else, there was no need for him to show up in person to tell you that.”

Kurt's eyes widened at the realization. “You think I can stop it.”

She grinned. “I think you can stop it.”

“I have no idea how...”

“We'll figure it out.”

“Will you help me?”

“Yes. Kurt, I've always been here for you. All you ever had to do was say the word.”

He covered her hand with his, brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I know that's true. I'll do my best to remember. Would you like to have breakfast?”

“Yes. I want to see you eat something.”

“I've been eating, Kätzchen. Mostly up here...”

“Where you have nothing but junk food and beer.”

“That's also true.”

He sat up and scratched at his shirt, bunched up and twisted from sleeping. His pants were worse and he couldn't wait to get them off. Vermin's wounds itched more than ever, and he scratched absently. Kitty sat up, too, somehow looking as fresh and beautiful as always. How could he have ignored that? How could he have pretended to feel nothing for her, when he felt everything for her, and with her?

“What's going on there? Is that where Vermin scratched you?”

He nodded. “They still itch.”

“Probably healing.”

“That's what Henry said.” Then he said. “They'll probably scar.”

“You have too many of those,” she said.

“I'm told chicks dig them.”

Kitty laughed. “I've seen my friends get cut up and torn apart too many times to think that. To me, it's just pain I wish they hadn't endured.”

He wanted to kiss her. Instead, he said, “At least my shoulder is healed. Man-Thing burned it.”

“What else?”

“Nothing else.”

Kitty started to slide off the bed, and he hated for her to go. “If I bring breakfast up here, could I show you the circus album?”

“I'd love to see it, if you want to show it to me.”

“I do. I've kept too much from you, too many things that didn't need to be secrets. At least, not between us. I want to change that.”

She scooted back to hug him and plant a loud kiss on his cheek. “Don't change too much. I like you the way you are.”

Warmth bloomed in his chest, and he realized with sudden clarity that she loved him. The thought made his heart race, stuttering in his chest wildly enough that she must have noticed, because she laid her hand over it.

“Maybe later we could eat some cake. I missed out last night.”

“It's gone. But I'll bake one with you.”

“Chocolate?”

“Yes.”

“And ice cream?”

She tipped her head up. “Sure.”

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Yes.”

“Kätzchen, it seems you cannot say no to me.”

She shrugged, but he noticed the rosy glow in her cheeks.

“Will you take me to that Italian restaurant in Salem Center?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Will you split a calzone so I don't leave half of it on my plate?”

“Yes.”

“You can't say no, either.” Her coy smile made it impossible to look away from her lips.

“I never could.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Rarely, and only when I am not feeling quite myself.”

He brushed strands of hair back from her face in light caresses, then ran his hand down her arm and watched the goose bumps rise with her blush. He leaned forward and touched her face.

“Would you like to kiss me?” she said.

“Yes. May I?”

“Yes.”

He kissed her gently, nothing wild or passionate, but a gentle, loving press of his lips to hers. Her fingers ventured up the back of his neck and rested there until they both leaned away to marvel at each other.

She smiled and put her head back on his shoulder. “Was that one of the things you've been keeping from me?”

“Yes,” he said, and they both laughed.

“You weren't alone in that, at least.” She sat up, serious. “I need to be clear about something. When I said you should talk to me, I know there will be things you don't want to talk about. And I respect that. If you don't want to talk to me, it's okay. As long as you don't let things get bottled up in there like this. Fair?”

“More than fair. I'll do my best.”

“That's all I can ask for.”

“I better get breakfast before it's gone. I'll be back shortly.”

“I'm gonna change real quick.”

She hurried out, and he changed and freshened up in the bathroom, feeling for the first time in over a week that things were going to be all right. He'd built road blocks for himself, but she'd broken them down and helped him move past them. If only, he thought, if only... There was no sense in that game, so instead he focused on what was now. And now, things were good. He hurried downstairs to grab a tray of food, happy and more at peace than he'd been since Germany. There was more to tell her, and he would. Not all at once, but over time, he would tell her everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Including but not limited to: the death of all but one of his friends in the Winzeldorf circus, learning his foster mother and foster sister (Amanda Sefton) hid the Soul Sword in him without telling him, and investigating the deaths of 13 children at the hands of an evil doctor who just wanted to make some demons his slaves; he witnesses the death of Barney Franks (burned to death), witnesses a demon emerge from a child's body, recalls the way his brother died at his hands, and learns Stephan was possessed by a demon sent to murder him. Oh. And Mephisto visits on his birthday. Fun times!


End file.
